


Purple Hearts

by Scarlet_Claws



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: And Hermes doesn't know that he likes him back yet, Charon likes Hermes, First Kiss, Fluff, Hearts, Love Confessions, M/M, Sweet, mute character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:02:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27388411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Claws/pseuds/Scarlet_Claws
Summary: Hermes is not a chthonic god, which means that he can’t communicate with Charon as the others do. But they find their own ways – and maybe Charon can finally tell him something he has meant to tell him for a long time.
Relationships: Charon/Hermes (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 232





	Purple Hearts

Seeing Charon was always welcome, but a brief moment in the day – and brief was not a word that Hermes used lightly. He, of course, hurried through it, but he could never rid himself of the impression that it simply was too short every time that he left the Underworld. And that, for him, was particularly uncommon.

Especially considering that the person he spent that time with was not... well, not the most talkative. Nor the easiest on the eye, really, and that had taken a while for Hermes to get used to it, when he was still very young and had seen less of the word than he had on that day. Now that he had seen the world some more, and some of the monsters that it could contain, Charon was almost a sight for sore eyes.

And he was kinder than what a lot of people gave him credit for – unless that was a side of him that he only showed Hermes, and why in the world would he do _that_? He was a good listener when the wind god needed one. And, recently, he had taken to offering Hermes gifts, beautiful gifts that seemed to hit home each time he pulled them out of his bag.

And while Hermes was not one for material possessions... he had to admit that the small trinkets spoke more about how much Charons cared about him and— That was touching. More than Hermes let on, or so he thought.

There was just one problem: Charon was a good listener, yes, but he had no way of telling him anything. And Hermes had been curious about the things he might be capable of saying if he had a voice. He had thought of the problem during his errands, as he delivered what had to be delivered right and left, and he thought that he might have come up with a solution.

He found a moment – a moment only – during his busy days to swoop down the Styx, his swift, winged shoes making him sail over the waters like a seagull. He found Charon – he always found Charon – alone, going up the current after having dropped some shades. He stopped his boat as he saw him, probably intrigued that Hermes was seeking him out without any anyone trailing behind him.

Hermes landed in front of him on the small boat, his weight barely making it shift.

“You know, partner,” he told Charon. “I understand that we have an implicit agreement, here, seeing as we work well together, but it’s getting a bit, I don’t know, arid, don’t you think?”

Charon tilted his head to the side. Being limited with his facial expressions – missing lips did that for you – and incapable of speech made him resort to a lot more expressive movements than someone would give him credit for. They could be subtle at times, but Hermes still read them with ease.

“What I’m getting at, if you follow, is that I thought of a way that you could talk to me.”

“Huuurghh...”

“Of course, partner. It’s quite easy, actually. See that smoke of yours?” He pointed to the long trail of purple smoke that escaped through Charon’s teeth whenever he spoke, and sometimes even when he didn’t. “I was wondering how good you were at shaping it?” 

Charon shrugged, seemed to think of it, then blew a little ring of smoke. Rather than being formed inside his mouth, it seemed to take shape mid-air, as if he was controlling its shape through his mind.

“Oh! Excellent. That’s even better than what I expected, partner. If you could make little shapes out of it, to _illustrate_ what you mean when you are trying to tell me something, I would love that. I know that the other chthonic gods sort of understand you, but I don’t – must be a surface thing, really.”

Charon seemed to think for a while, or maybe he was focusing on something. Then he blew something in Hermes’ direction.

A little, purple, smoke heart.

“Oh! That’s actually really good,” Hermes said. The heart blushed past his cheek. He clapped his hands. “You’re really getting the hang of this, aren’t you?”

Charon, surprisingly, shook his head. Hermes frowned. What was the problem now? Was Charon blaming himself for a lack of talent or something? But he was so good for a first try!

The boatman brought his hand in front of his mouth, then blew out another heart in Hermes’ direction. It was even larger than the first. And prettier, almost iridescent with the way the light played off the thick smoke. It met Hermes on the nose, dissipating around his face like a caress.

Hermes clapped his hands again. “That was really pretty. You’re an artist, you know? You really could steal someone’s heart like that.”

Charon shook his head again. And then he reached for Hermes’ hands, holding them in his, before bringing it to his own chest. His cold chest... in which his heart was beating like mad, so strongly that Hermes could feel it through the layers of cloth. The whole time, he was looking at the god of wind in the eyes.

“Charon?” said Hermes.

Charon blew a literal cloud of purple cloud hearts that framed his face. His eye was soft, filled with what could only be described as pure adoration. The realisation slapped Hermes across the face and his cheeks burned bright from the hit.

“You mean... Oh.”

For the first time in his long life, Hermes’ wind was knocked out of him. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to _feel_. All he knew was that his own heart was beating in his chest too. Maybe it wasn’t even his heart anymore.

Charon stopped then tilted his head ever so slightly. From between his teeth escaped a question mark, that seemed to only fly reluctantly in Hermes’ direction.

Hermes’ feet left the ground. His head slipped through the large rims of his hat, his head wings cupping both of their faces together, and he pressed his lips on Charon’s teeth. He had not thought, he had just acted – acted too fast for thoughts to catch up, even his.

Charon rose his hand to push him back, just a little. Hermes suddenly worried as he doubted himself. He had understood correctly, right? Had he been wrong to respond that way – to respond in the way his heart commanded? Had he made a mistake?

But no. Charon’s smoke, shapeless once more, escaped through his mouth and reached to stroke Hermes’ face and lips. The latter chuckled. He could feel its strokes, like ghostly touches, on his skin, though his hair, his feathers. And sometimes a tiny heart escaped from its constant flow, floating in the small space between their faces.

Hermes felt light-headed, but in a good way.

“I love you too,” he whispered. He was discovering the words as he spoke them, as well as the feelings they contained, but they rang true. He should have known sooner. “I love you. I do.”

He wrapped his arms around Charon’s head, passing a hand through his hair. He felt a hand on his lower back. And now he was chuckling, and he just couldn’t stop. It was as if he was so happy that his heart was becoming bubbly, and that those bubbles rose in pearls of laughter. And Charon used the occasion, stroking the inside of his mouth with his smoke, exploring him – like he would for a much more intimate kiss. And it flustered Hermes, enough to make his cheeks burn all over again.

He was the one that broke the kiss, slowly sliding down Charon’s tall frame until his feet were touching the ground again. But he didn’t leave. He couldn’t. He was resting his head against Charon’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, waiting for his head to stop spinning. Charon’s hand stroked through his short black hair.

Hermes stayed still for a single moment.

“Well, partner,” he said. “I’d love to remain a while longer, but—You know how it is. Work, work, work, messages to deliver, shades to ferry, and all that.” He paused. “We’ll... pick up talking lessons next time. All right?” 

Charon understood. He nodded in understanding. Before he had even finished the small gesture, Hermes was already gone.

He’d be back. He always came back, and now Charon knew that there was more to it than just work.

**Author's Note:**

> Charon: “I love you.”  
> Hermes: “Well said, partner!”  
> Charon: "I love _you_."  
> Hermes: "Wow, I envy the lucky gal or guy to whom you’ll say that."  
> Charon: "Feel my heartbeat. You're the only one that makes it race like this."  
> Hermes: "... Oh."
> 
> Also, I have a feeling that some of the gifts that Charon was giving Hermes were heart-shaped... Just saying... He's probably been trying to tell him for a while if that's the first thing he tries to tell him.


End file.
